


heart's been aching (too shy to say it)

by BlackcatNamedlucky, braadvengolor, gender_is_fake_and_im_tired, pweasenosubtweet, themoonandtheiris



Category: Beowulf - All Media Types
Genre: <- this is not related to the sex i PROMISE, 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Dom/sub Undertones, Don't Judge Me, Emetophobia, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone Thinks They're Together, Explicit Sexual Content, Hate Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Semi-Public Sex, Spot the Cameos, Unresolved Sexual Tension, and he is planning on living forever, as a treat, beowulf is lethally horny, but it's actually 7+1 things, content warnings will be at the beginning of each chapter they're applicable to!, ggcu, he has terminal horny disease, he just hasn't been able to pass a free education act yet, if this man does not fuck he will die, in this universe bernie sanders won in 2016, there are four, this is self-indulgent fiction characters can have little a unionization, we got carried away, yes their cafe is union yes it's because i hate my job and wish we would unionize what about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23014612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackcatNamedlucky/pseuds/BlackcatNamedlucky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/braadvengolor/pseuds/braadvengolor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gender_is_fake_and_im_tired/pseuds/gender_is_fake_and_im_tired, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pweasenosubtweet/pseuds/pweasenosubtweet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/themoonandtheiris/pseuds/themoonandtheiris
Summary: When Beowulf got this job, he only wanted to pay his way through college. He wasn’t expecting Unferth, his piece of shit, ungrateful, kiss-ass coworker. The men had been working together for going on two years now and their relationship had been nothing short of hostile for the better part of it, but, maybe, just maybe, it didn't have to be that way.Follow Beowulf Ecgtheowsson, undergraduate student at Lake Michigan University, on his journey to discovering that maybe what he thought had been hate for so long was really something much sweeter.aka 7 times Beowulf didn’t understand Unferth was actually in love with him (and maybe that he's in love with him, too) + 1 time he did something about it
Relationships: Beowulf/Original Character(s), Beowulf/Unferth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	1. You Know the Rules and So Do I

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the rodeo, I promise this is actually well written. I worked very hard on it. ‘I’ being braadvengolor on ao3. Sidenote: I cannot believe that this is my first official work on ao3. I want to make it abundantly clear that I cannot be held responsible for the ass comment. That was blackcatnamedlucky’s doing- that cannot be your first impression of me.  
> Want to air your grievances? Message me on tumblr: [thismanhattanman](https://thismanhattanman.tumblr.com)

Fuck! The beeping of the alarm had been slowly worming its way into Beowulf’s dream over the last half-hour— something about robots? It began to fade as soon as he jolted awake. He looked over at the still-screaming alarm clock- 6:57. Exactly 27 minutes later than he’d like to have woken up, but just barely not too late to get to work on time if he hauled ass to get there. He clawed his way out of his warm, cozy bunk.

When his feet hit the floor, a warbling, extremely annoyed voice drifted over from the bunk bed on the other side of the room, “you fucker, your alarm has been going off for forever.” 

Beowulf’s roommate. He was a perfectly nice guy, if not a little strange. Nice ass, too. You could bounce a quarter off that thing.

“Why didn’t you turn it off, dipshit?” Beowulf retorted. 

“Not my fuckin’ problem, and it’s warm up here. It’s cold down there,” the voice whined. 

Beowulf gave his alarm clock a vengeful punch, quickly buttoned his burgundy uniform, and flailed his legs wildly about the room as he did his best to put his pants on as quickly as possible. Why the fuck had he taken this stupid job again? Oh, right, money. Money can be exchanged for goods and services, like college tuition. Beowulf grabbed his jacket from the floor and shot his roommate a gruff goodbye. His roommate flipped him off, turned towards the wall, and shoved a pillow over his head. 

It wasn’t too chilly, but the late spring winds still had some bite to them. Bite that Beowulf’s light coat was not ready to handle. The weather was never all that predictable— sometimes it’d snow 10 inches in November and sometimes it’d be 40° in December. Today, it was cold. Bitter fucking cold. Beowulf was not looking forward to work, not looking forward to dealing with customers, and he was especially not looking forward to dealing with his piece of shit, ungrateful, kiss-ass coworker. Unferth. Unferth was everything Beowulf hoped he wasn’t. He was a sniveling little weasel man with piercing blue eyes. Eyes that bored holes through the back of your skull, eyes that made you wish you could drown yourself in the employee bathroom rather than spend one more aching moment with your insufferable coworker. 

Six-thirty was not a time to be doing much of anything, and six-thirty was especially not the time to be playing nice with one of the most annoying people on earth. Six thirty was a time to be curled up in your bed, asleep. But no, college students needed at least 10,000 milligrams of caffeine each day as early as possible in order to not collapse dead on the pavement. Sure, Beowulf completely understood, sleep is in short supply. But could they just wait another hour? Another precious hour in bed, another hour of sleep. Thoughts like this filled Beowulf’s head as he came up to the door of the coffee shop he would be forced to spend the next several hours in. He let out a deep sigh and turned his keys in the lock.

Before he could unlock the door, Unferth shoved it open— the surprise nearly knocking Beowulf on his ass. God fucking damn it. Of course he was, he was always there right on the dot if not a few minutes early. It was uncanny. How could a human being never be late to work?! 

“Late again, Ecgtheowsson? What’s the excuse this time?” Unferth sneered.

Beowulf sighed, “can you get off my ass, just this once?”

Unferth shot him a glare, but surprisingly decided to show him some mercy. Instead of antagonizing him further, he elected to return to counting and recounting the cash in the register. Beowulf tied his apron around his waist and got to work on the small, yet unfinished tasks. By the time Beowulf had gotten to work, Unferth had already done most of the pre-open prep work. That was the one thing Beowulf didn’t hate about him, he never slacked on his duties. It was kind of annoying at times though— put one coffee bean out of place and it was like you’d shot his dog. 

The store opened uneventfully, the morning crowd came through, drank their coffee, milled about a bit, and left. Someone made a mess of the coffee fixings table and didn’t even try to apologize. Beowulf’s roommate dropped by, ordered something so sweet it’d make a dentist cry, apologized for flipping him off earlier that morning, and left like everyone else. Overall, it had been an extremely average day. 

That was, it had been. It had been an extremely average day until a middle aged woman exploded onto the scene. She had it all, the haircut, the cheap highlights, the cracked white iPhone in the dull gold case balancing precariously in her inattentive fingers, the almost designer sunglasses. Just one look at her and you knew it was going to be a hell of a ride. You could guess her name before she opened her mouth. Karen, Brenda, and Carol drifted through Beowulf’s mind as she approached the counter with a child that had a glint of pure evil in his eyes in tow. 

Normally, Beowulf didn’t mind kids. Kids tended not to be forces of destruction, and were generally very nice and polite. It was usually the parents who caused the most problems. Beowulf had never had a kid yell at him for getting their order wrong, even though he’d given them exactly what they’d ordered, a kid had never thrown their drink at him. This kid however, there was something about him that made alarm bells go off in Beowulf’s head. Something about the look he gave him, the way his hands seemed to wander about, looking for something to destroy. Beowulf glanced worriedly at the coffee fixings that had been tidied less than half an hour ago. 

“Americano, half caff, one pump caramel, two pumps strawberry, light ice, almond milk, large,” she said without looking up from her phone. 

There were some things you got used to working with the public, and some things you never did. This was one of the things Beowulf never got used to.

He blinked a couple times at the disrespect, “alright, is that all?”

“Yes— and make it snappy. I don’t have all day.”

“What’s the name for that?”

“Jennifer. Hurry it up. I have important places to be.”

Jennifer. Not what expected. Would it be worth it to purposefully write her name wrong on her cup? Probably not. Beowulf paused for a moment to contemplate this. Jennifer snapped her fingers in his face. 

“Did you hear me? I have places to be! Get moving!”

Beowulf ground his teeth and quickly scribbled ‘Jennifer’ on the cup. Bitterly, he got to work on her coffee, taking just a little bit of extra time on each step. At the fridge, Unferth bumped Beowulf’s shoulder, spilling a little bit of almond milk on the floor. 

“Hey- be careful! I have a customer who wants almond milk and she’s in a hurry,” Beowulf said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Oh, my bad, I’ll get out of your way, this obviously takes precedence over literally everything else,” Unferth said with a smirk, elbowing him in the shoulder again. 

Sure, Beowulf couldn’t stand Unferth. Everything about him made him want to scream, but there’s nothing like shittalking someone insufferable. Shittalking can bridge even the widest of chasms. 

Beowulf poured the almond milk into the cup and placed the cup on the counter. 

“Americano for Jennifer!” He called out into the nearly empty café. 

Jennifer strutted up to the counter, snatched the cup off the counter, took one sip without breaking eye contact, and curled her lip up in disgust. 

“This clearly has one and a half pumps of strawberry, not two.”

Beowulf couldn’t help but look shocked.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you fucking deaf? I said this clearly has one and a half pumps of strawberry, not two. Now fucking fix it!”

Beowulf slowly reached his hand out to grab the cup out of her hand, and turned back around to add one half pump of strawberry to the drink. He handed it back to her, but almost dropped the cup when he heard a loud crash from the direction of the coffee fixings. Her kid had pulled one of the jugs of milk off of the counter and was reaching for the next one. This was going to be a much longer day than Beowulf thought.


	2. Don't Tell Me You're Too Blind to See It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never did I imagine this would be the first thing I put on under my Ao3 account but I guess there’s a time for everything? I’m wildly out of my element lol I never even read Beowulf.

Beowulf finds himself disappointed that it’s only 10:00 am. The slog of making coffee (and sometimes hot chocolate for kids) over and over is insufferable enough, but of course fucking Unferth also has to be here. He could be fun sometimes, especially when they both had to deal with the Karens but he didn’t have to be such a suck up to the boss all the time.

The little bastard man was still rubbing in the fact that he’d made it in on the dot and Beowulf had been what, three minutes late? Nobody flexes about that shit. Beowulf had half the mind to clock him in the face every time he delivered one of his signature sneers. The most infuriating part is that he knows he won’t, and only because he needs the stupid tuition money so he can go to college to replace all his memories of this little pitstain named Unferth with stuff he actually cares about.

Despite his ire with everything going on around him, he had to note that it had been a somewhat slow day, which is almost peaceful.

“Are you just going to stand at the cash register like a zombie or help me out, Ecgtheowsson?”

Almost.

“What are you even doing?” Beowulf grunts. Unferth has a broom in his goddamn hands and he’s sweeping up coffee beans that don’t exist. Unferth sways the broom in his arms as if he’s dancing with it and shimmies over to Beowulf with a shiteating grin. Beowulf closes his eyes and sighs deeply, heat rising to his face, surely from anger, surely.

“We’ve gotta keep this place sparkling clean for our esteemed customers, wouldn’t you say so?” Unferth says. Beowulf bites down the urge to laugh, but a chuckle slips from him despite his efforts.

Right then, an esteemed customer who looks like she might be the zodiac killer walks in. She seems surprisingly exhausted for it being 10 am. Thankfully her face softens up enough for Beowulf to realize that she probably won’t be too much trouble, but regardless he still finds himself a little on edge. She might not chew him out, but someone else might be in danger today. But that’s not his clown or his circus.

“I’ll have a black coffee,” she says. Beowulf spots Unferth pretending to be shocked in the corner of his eye and tries to ignore him.

“What size would you like?” Beowulf says in the most forcibly approachable tone imaginable.

“Fuck, sorry. Does this place use normal size names or does it have those weird fancy names… whatever, I’ll take whatever a large is called,” she says, “oh and the name is Rex.” Beowulf writes her name on the cup and goes to make the coffee, glad to have a simple order for once in his fucking life.

“What size would you like, what are you talking to, a puppy?” Unferth teases. Beowulf tries to elbow him but can’t do it very hard without spilling the drink.

“Fuck off, most of them probably aren’t even as smart as a puppy,” Beowulf grumbles, “at least puppies are cute.”

“Oh so you are more than just ‘grumble grumble I don’t wanna be here,’ you like puppies! How adorable of you,” Unferth continues. Beowulf sighs as loudly as he can.

“I told you to fuck off, this coffee is the most important thing in the whooole entire world right now,” Beowulf says. He places the still steaming black coffee on the table, “large black coffee for Rex!”

“You know what else is large-”

“Thanks. I feel inclined to tell you that you should keep your little couple’s squabbles a little quieter. It’s kinda fuckin awkward man,” Rex says casually as she grabs her coffee and takes a swig while its still practically on fire. Beowulf stands dumbfounded for a moment as she leaves. How could someone think that… Unferth and him? No way, she seemed so exhausted, she couldn’t have been thinking straight. No person in the right state of mind could possibly think such a thing, no way, fuck that.

Beowulf shakes his head to himself. He can’t let a random customer get to his head like this. Its just another stupid rude person. Nothing more. He shouldn’t even need to be convincing himself so much about this, he doesn’t care, he shouldn’t care.

Unferth is unusually but mercifully quiet until it starts getting closer to lunch hour, meaning a flood of people will come in and hopefully help Beowulf forget that ever happened.


	3. We Know the Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this all started because I made a joke about my OCs spitroasting Beowulf and it spiraled from there and i feel alive again. if you'd like to chat you can find me on [ tumblr ](https://the-sneering-menagerie.tumblr.com) for all complaint purposes.

Beowulf is bored. Bored and horny. And, as such, and having no classes the following day, he decides to flip through Tinder, looking for a guy who looks like he could satisfy him. He swiped left on the first few guys- boring profile, too far away, already hooked up with him (it was not good, he was way too passive), until a cute picture catches his eye and he looks further. He’s only two miles away, his bio is a joke about being good with his hands, he seems great, and then, ugh, “not looking for a one night stand”. Left.

Hm, hot, tattooed, deliciously red hair Beowulf can see himself tugging on in the throes of passion, mile and a half away, he almost swipes right, until, “looking for a top who isn’t afraid to take control”. Well, same buddy, but this is not gonna work out, he thinks, then swipes left.

Oh, he’s sexy, got a little bit of a silver fox thing going, and mmm that jawline. His bio just says “down for anything”, and he’s not too far. Fucking finally. He swipes right, but it’s not a match so he keeps looking.

Oh my god, Beowulf thinks, is that Unferth? God, no, left.

Oh, wait, this guy is...something else. The main picture is a post-workout selfie and, man, he has a body like a god. That v-line. His dark hair is hanging messily over his shoulders and masking his face just enough for there to be an air of mystery that Beowulf is incredibly attracted to. He’s smiling, and it is gorgeous, fuck, Beowulf is already getting turned on. God, he hasn’t been fucked in too long. He notices the guy’s bio says “looking for a third” so he clicks on the profile in hopes to see whoever else is part of this, and he is not disappointed.

If Beowulf thought the first guy was a god, well, his boyfriend is like fucking Adonis, his hair is floating around his shoulders like golden thread inadvertently unspooled, and the smile he’s giving the camera is full of mischief and mirth. He’s fully clothed (unfortunately), but Beowulf can see his biceps straining against the tight fabric of his shirt and he bites his lower lip and feels his pants tighten just enough to provide a thrilling amount of friction. He’s looking forward to the beard burn from this one.

They match, and after exchanging a few flirtatious remarks, they send their address and Beowulf is on his way.

###

Beowulf didn’t expect the couple to come into his work the morning after they’d hooked up but god knows he was not complaining. The place needed a little eye candy.

They come in after the morning rush, when the shop has quieted down enough that Unferth has decided he had the time to get to work on their cleaning duties (he is, if nothing else, efficient), so it’s just Beowulf at the counter. They smile when they see him and the brunette reaches into his back pocket and produces a slim, leather wallet that Beowulf recognizes as his own.

They approach and the brunette leans his forearms on the counter, a lock of his dark hair escaping the hasty braid it’s tied back in.

“You forgot something,” he says in his intoxicating, heavy German accent, and slides the wallet across the counter to Beowulf.

“Oh, shit, thanks. Can I get you something? On me, of course, for bringing this back,” he says, taking the wallet and putting it in his own pocket.

He grins, his lips stretching over his teeth in a hungry, almost animalistic manner. “Tell me, pretty boy, what would you recommend having?”

Beowulf raises an eyebrow, casting a glance between the man and his partner and stands a little taller. “Well, I personally love our dark roast with a shot of cream,” he responds. “Two, if you’re feeling brave, and a couple pumps of hazelnut syrup,” he continues, shooting a wink at the man’s blond companion, who smirks in response. “It’s got a nice, robust, nutty flavor. Just strong enough for you boys, I think.”

And, of course, the pain in his ass and not in the fun way chooses this moment to walk in. “This isn’t a happy ending cafe, Beowulf, just get them their damn drinks,” he says, his ever-present scowl seeming to intensify.

The man leans back from the counter, shooting a raised eyebrow at his partner. “Seems we’ve got ourselves stuck in a lover’s quarrel, pup,” he says to him, barely audible to Beowulf, and the other man tsks.

“Seems so. We’ll just have two black coffees, medium. We were looking for fun, not your relationship drama.”

Beowulf wants to retort, is aghast at anyone thinking Unferth is his boyfriend, but he doesn’t want the situation to devolve even more so he just shoots a dirty look at his coworker and busies himself with getting the men their drinks.

After they leave, he rounds on Unferth, who’s cleaning the milk frother like he hasn’t just scared off the best lay of Beowulf’s life. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” he barks, hands on his hips.

Unferth doesn’t startle, just sets his rag down on the counter and gives Beowulf a dry look. “I don’t care what you get up to in the privacy of your own bedroom, just don’t bring it into the workplace.”

Beowulf’s skin prickles at that, and he gives Unferth an icy smile. “Just because I’m getting fucked on the regular and you haven’t had anyone but your right hand and an old sock since your senior prom night doesn’t give you the right to blame it all on me.”

This seems to get to Unferth and he gives Beowulf a look that almost betrays hurt. “You don’t know anything about me, Ecgtheowsson,” he says, shortly. “Maybe if you fucking paid attention to anyone but yourself, you would figure it out,” he bites out, roughly shoving past Beowulf and grabbing a box of their house blend to restock the bags they have available for customers to purchase.

Beowulf bristles, but a customer walks in and he can’t retaliate. The encounter leaves a sour taste in his mouth and a knot in his stomach, but he doubts Unferth would want to hear any of his half-assed apologies, so the rest of the day goes by in tense, uncomfortable silence.

Later that night, when he gets back to his dorm, he asks his roommate for his insight. He stares at Beowulf blankly over the book that’s balancing between his knees and chest. “Are you fucking serious right now? Wow, your love life is so fucked up,” he says, rolling his eyes and continuing Beowulf just stares. “I mean come on, Beowulf, my man, I am quite possibly the least observant person in this great big mitten, but even I can see what’s going on with him. And I’ve only seen you two work together like, three times! Total! Maybe less!”

“What are you talking about?” Beowulf asks, his work shirt held crumpled in one hand.

“Come on, man!” His roommate exclaims, “Can you really not see it? The guy totally wants you! You know, biblically!”

“What? No he doesn’t!” Beowulf says, incredulous. “He hates me. He makes my job a living hell!”

“Maybe if you tried talking to him like he was a person, like he had feelings, you know feelings? he wouldn’t be such a dick to you. You can be a real asshole sometimes, pal.”

His roommate turns back to his studies, leaving Beowulf standing in the middle of their dorm room, mouth agape, and thoughts racing.


	4. Inside We Both Know What's Been Going On

Beowulf wakes up from a not-so-restful sleep. He had this strange feeling in his gut, nagging at him, trying to tell him something. The sleep-starved man ignored it. He probably had one too many beers the night before. Could it be true what his roommate said? No, no way. If in some twisted alternate universe it was, there’s no way he could think about that prick like that. He slides out of bed, shaking that “what if?” feeling off of him.

Beowulf turns up to work early today. He’d been up since 5 in the morning, so there was no use in staying home moping around. He opened the door to the still-closed shop and started preparing for the day. That was Unferth’s job, but he was so jittery that he couldn’t help but keep his hands busy. Anything to calm his nerves. He could take the heat of his insults no problem.

Unferth enters the shop, his brow wrinkled in confusion and a bit of amazement. “Where was all this motivation yesterday?” Beowulf just scoffed and continued to fill the small metal pitchers with half and half. “I’m talking to you, dipshit,” the irritated man leaned over the counter, curious why his co-worker wasn’t making some bitchy remark. “What, were you saving all that energy up for your friends?” Beowulf was losing his patience and his nerves.

“Yeah, maybe I was.” Beowulf snapped. Wouldn’t you like to know… he thought to himself. Unferth rolled his eyes, chuckling at the thought of the strange couple and the intense erotic vibe they gave off. Maybe he was thinking about it too hard.

The day went on as they usually do. Floods of picky customers, countless spills and littered napkins to clean, and constant passive-aggressive remarks directed at each of them. It was clear that they were both under a considerable amount of stress. The lunch rush had just started and clusters of business people in suits squeezed through the narrow doorway. The two sweaty men struggled to keep up with what seemed like hundreds of orders. The oblivious customers looked at their watches and phones impatiently while Beowulf and Unferth scrambled to put each drink together. In a rush to get a cappuccino out to an especially impatient customer, Beowulf tripped on the bunched up rubber mat underneath him. The hot espresso flew out of the ceramic cup and splashed Unferth’s burgundy shirt, staining it with the scalding liquid. The shorter man flinched in pain and cursed under his breath. He said nothing, he only scowled at Beowulf and stormed off to the bathroom. 

Beowulf kneeled on the floor behind the desk, shocked by what had just happened. “Hey, you! I ordered a latte half an hour ago!” An impatient Karen was glaring at Beowulf, tapping her acrylic nails on the wood counter. The woman snapped her fingers. “Can you even hear me?” Beowulf drifted back into reality. He shook his head, rubbing his forehead. 

“Yes, right away, ma’am.” He said, forcing the words to come out. He rapidly finished Karen’s drink and got to work on the last few of their rush hour. He couldn’t help but glance back at the bathroom every few minutes. What’s taking him so damn long? He thought. 

###

The urge to check up on Unferth suddenly came to mind. He’d been in the bathroom for almost an hour. He tries to push the thought out of his mind. He looks around, no customers. He lets out a deep sigh. _What the hell am I doing…_

Beowulf slowly pushed the bathroom door open and found Unferth shirtless, leaning against the wall at the back of the room. If it weren’t for the sudden shifting of his eyes, Beowulf wouldn’t have thought that he’d been noticed. “Unferth… I'm sorry for earlier. I’m sure uh…” he looked the other man up and down, almost losing track of his thoughts. “We might have an extra shirt in the back.” he gulped. 

Unferth looked more agitated than before. He sauntered towards Beowulf, his eyes piercing his co-worker’s.  
“What was that earlier?” he said softly, but with a hint of anger.

“I-I’m sorry, I slipped,” Beowulf stuttered. He felt a wave of fear wash over him. Fear and something else…

“It hurt.” Unferth swiftly pinned the muscular man to the bathroom wall. He got close enough to Beowulf’s ear to whisper. “I don’t care about my uniform, Beowulf.” The blonde could feel the other man’s breath on his neck. A shiver ran down his spine. 

“Again, I’m sorry, I-” he started to mumble.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Beowulf gulped. He could feel his pants getting tighter. He looked down at his pants nervously. Unferth caught him doing so and had a look for himself. He chuckled. “Well, what do we have here?” The taller man could only blush, looking away. Unferth traced a finger up and down Beowulf’s perfectly toned thighs. He moved closer, almost pressing himself against what seemed to be his new submissive partner. Unferth grinned, gently rubbing Beowulf where he needed it most. “Don’t be late tomorrow.” 

The dominant man let go of Beowulf and left the bathroom confidently. He decided to go home, leaving him wanting more. It was only when he sat down in his car that he noticed the bulge in his own pants.  
Beowulf sank to the floor, panting. What just happened? He was flustered and confused, but he would have no trouble at all pleasing himself that night.


	5. Gotta Make You Understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: explicit sexual content w/ dub-con

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [REDACTED]’s chapter (pweasenosubtweet on AO3): They have hate sex in a storage closet (why are there no good synonyms for closet in this fucking language). I’ve also been kin assigned this blue color so that’s fun I suppose

The day had started off so normally, and yet, as Beowulf had learned, it was usually the most normal days that tend to go wrong in the end. Indeed, he thought he knew what he was getting into when he decided to tease Unferth during their daily pre-lunchtime lull in customers, but whatever response he expected, it certainly wasn't this.

This, of course, being the natural result of Unferth’s extreme displeasure with the joking, and the extensive history of unresolved sexual tension between the two coworkers, culminating in the brunette dragging Beowulf by his shirt collar into the storage closet, fingernails threatening to dig into the nape of his neck.

Once they were both concealed from view in the dusty confines of the closet, the shorter male wasted no time in pulling at Beowulf’s shaggy hair, baring his neck in the process, and biting at it in a farcical imitation of something much more intimate.

It wasn't until the blonde began to tear at his clothes in return that Unferth realized the true gravity of the situation he’d entered into, and just how easily the larger man could overpower him if he so desired. In his mind, Unferth rapidly thought through solutions to this problem, before settling on momentarily easing up on Beowulf’s neck and spinning him around, pinning his supple arms behind his back and getting on with the main event without giving the younger man the benefit of any foreplay.

“This is probably a health code violation”, remarked Beowulf through gritted teeth as Unferth curtly tore down his pants just enough to reveal the sumptuous curves of his ass. His breath hitched as he felt a barely-wet finger press against his hole and begin to stretch him out all too quickly. Yet still more uncomfortable to Beowulf was the way his own body reacted to the intrusion, his dick stiffening in his too-tight pants.

Adding another finger, Unferth stopped, pausing to hear the oh-so-satisfying moans from the man underneath him. “That’s enough out of you”, he barked, feigning distaste for the other man’s mewling as he roughly pulled his fingers out and smacked the same hand across Beowulf’s pert ass. With his other hand, he freed himself from the confines of his pants – already dripping with a hefty amount of precum, which he promptly smeared across the blonde’s tight hole before brusquely and without warning pushing into him.

Beowulf had opened his mouth to make another pithy comment, but his words came out only as a hoarse, choked moan as he felt the force of Unferth’s cock fill him up to the hilt. A soft, low rumble left the shorter man’s throat as he proceeded to thrust into Beowulf, all the while digging his nails into the skin of his arms, leaving a trail of crescent-moon shaped marks as a souvenir for later.

Unferth’s low moaning gradually reached a peak of fervor as he climaxed inside Beowulf, admiring his handiwork as he saw how he had transformed his smart-mouth coworker into a shaking, needy facsimile of his former self. He pulled out, grimacing at the oversensitivity that shot up his body as he unhilted himself from inside Beowulf.

“You can finish yourself off on your own,” remarked Unferth with a cruel smile, as he hastily redressed himself, buttoning up his uniform shirt and pants and redonning his apron, lost in the hazy struggle. “But don't take too long, you’ve got customers to serve.”

With that, he left, leaving Beowulf alone in a pathetic crumpled pile on the floor to deal with his sore ass and still-throbbing erection by himself.


	6. I Just Gotta Tell You How I'm Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: emetophobia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi it's rory again spot the cameo xoxo

“Unferth,” Beowulf said sharply, catching the other man’s hand as he reached for the break room door handle. He’d never been more grateful for his tendency to be early to his afternoon shifts, there’s no way in hell he would have been able to catch Unferth’s state in time if he weren’t. “You need to go home, you look like you’re about to throw up.”

“It’s not that b-” Unferth got out before bringing his hand up to his mouth and retching, and he bolted across the room to the employee bathroom.

Beowulf rushed after him, stopping him from closing the bathroom door. He knelt next to Unferth as the shorter man emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He tentatively reached out a hand and laid it between Unferth’s shoulders in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

It was disconcerting, seeing Unferth like this. Yeah, he could be kind of a little bitch, and as a shift manager he was a little weak-willed when it came to asshole customers, but Beowulf was used to seeing him be at least mostly in control of situations. He certainly knew how easily the older man could take control when he wanted to. He wasn’t used to seeing his coworker completely wrecked by circumstance. It felt wrong, uncomfortable, like Beowulf was seeing a side of Unferth he wasn’t supposed to know about.

He took a deep breath, knew he had to say something, if only to soothe the part of himself that is disturbed by the shattering of his coworker’s image. “Hey, man,” he started, voice soft, “you’re only human, you know. You gotta take care of yourself.” A reminder to himself as much as it was a consolation for the other man. Unferth didn’t reply, but he shifted his weight so he was almost leaning on Beowulf, which the younger man took as his cue to continue, “Do you need me to call you a ride or something? You probably shouldn’t be walking home like this.”

It took a moment for Unferth to register the question, but when he did he nodded weakly. “Y-yeah,” he swallowed and pressed his fist to his mouth for a moment before continuing, “can you call my roommate? I-I’m pretty sure she’s free right now.”

“Yeah, ‘course. What’s her number?”

Unferth swallowed thickly and sunk his weight fully onto Beowulf’s lap. “She’s one of my emergency contacts, should be in the binder.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” he said, getting up slowly so Unferth had time to adjust his position. 

He walked to the back office and flipped through the three-ring binder that sat on the desk there until he found Unferth’s employee page, scanning it until his eyes landed on “Olophine, Adelaide- Roomate” and he called the listed number.

She picked up after the second ring, “Hello?” She sounded exhausted, and Beowulf sort of felt bad for disturbing her.

“Hi, Adelaide? I’m Unferth’s coworker-”

“You the one he won’t shut up about? Beo-something?”

“Um, yeah, that’s me, I guess,” Beowulf replied, taken somewhat aback that Unferth talked about him to others. Probably to complain. “Uh, he’s pretty sick right now and needs to go home, just wanted to ask if you’d be able to give him a ride? He’s not really in any state to be walking.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be there in ten. Thanks for calling me,” she said, then hung up.

When Beowulf got back to the bathroom he found Unferth slumped over the toilet, sweat-sheened head buried in his crossed arms.

“Hey, I called her, she said she’ll be here in ten.”

Unferth nodded in response, barely, and Beowulf hovered awkwardly in the doorway. “Do you, uh, want me to stay with you until she gets here, or?”

It was tiny, almost imperceptible that time, but Unferth nodded again, so Beowulf sat next to him again, back pressed against the cold tile of the bathroom wall. He shot a quick text to one of the morning shift workers that he might not be able to man the counter right at four when his shift started, but he’d try, then fiddled on his phone a bit more, trying to distract himself from the tension in the room.

He heard the back door open, and a few minutes later a shadow fell in the doorway.

“Oh, Unferth,” a vaguely familiar voice said, rife with sympathy, and a woman stepped into the already crowded bathroom, standing next to where Beowulf sat. Must be Adelaide, Beowulf thought. She looked tired, scattered, her hair was in a ponytail gone loose with time and she wore what looked like maroon scrubs under her hoodie, which was emblazoned on the back with the school mascot. Beowulf wondered idly if she was part of the med school. She tsked, then leant down and gently helped Unferth to his feet. Beowulf stood as well, crossing the break room to open the door for Unferth and his roommate. She guided him into the passenger seat of her car and, before getting in herself, turned to address Beowulf.

“Thanks for making him go home. I was trying to convince him before he left but he kept insisting he was fine.”

“Yeah, well,” Beowulf paused. “He can be pretty stubborn when he wants to be, huh,” and, fuck, his voice was too soft to his own ears, but it didn’t seem like Adelaide noticed.

She snorted, “tell me about it,” gave Beowulf a small nod, then walked around her car, got in, and drove off.

Beowulf went back inside, washed his hands, then tied on his apron and went up front.

“Thanks, Jake,” he said, patting the other man on the back, who turned at the touch, myriad of piercings catching the light.

Jake was cool, he’d been the one to suggest the cafe going union in the first place and Beowulf felt almost indebted to him. His whole “thing” was disrupting the status quo, and, even now, he wore ripped black t-shirts under his apron instead of the polo shirt issued to all employees, and he wasn’t afraid to cuss out a shitty customer.

“Yeah, ‘course, hope your boy’s okay,” he replied, turned to go, and had already left before Beowulf picked up on the implications of his response.

The comment was forgotten as more customers came in and Beowulf found himself wishing Unferth was there. He told himself he was just wishing for the help, but something in the back of his head reminded him what he really wanted. If only for the stress relief.

Just before Beowulf’s shift ended, his military history professor walked in, his heavy boots announcing the presence of a customer to Beowulf, who had been under the counter getting the materials needed to restock the fixings table. He tried to stand too quickly and hit his head on the wooden overhang, knocking him back into a crouched position as he held his hand to his head.

“You alright?” his professor asked, voice gruff and carrying a slight English lilt. He leaned over the counter to see who had fallen. “Mr. Ecgtheowsson?”

Beowulf groaned and accepted the hand his professor offered to help him up, and got to stable footing. “Hey, thanks. Uh, ‘m fine, what can I get you?” he asked, somewhat out of breath and attempting a smile that looked more like a grimace.

His professor looked concerned, but gave his order anyways— a red eye, or, what Beowulf liked to call the “final exam special”.

He set about to making it, but added hot water to the espresso he’d made, as though on autopilot, resulting in an americano instead of the brewed coffee his professor had requested.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he said, dumping the incorrect drink down the drain.

“You sure you’re okay?” his professor asked again, furrowing his brow.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be good. ‘M just a little out of it today. Been working alone.” Beowulf replied, waving away the question and starting the process anew.

“What, your boyfriend’s not here tonight?”

Beowulf paused in the middle of making his drink, slowly looking up at his professor and realizing from the man’s earnest face that he wasn’t making fun of him. “Uh, my boyfriend?” he asked, haltingly.

“The kid who usually works with you?” his professor said, raising an eyebrow. “Did I misinterpret what was going on? It’s just, you remind me of, well,” he cut himself off with a sharp inhale.

Before he could speak again, Beowulf muttered, quickly, “he called in sick last minute, so, just me,” then handed his professor his drink.

“Ah, well, I hope he feels better soon. And that the rest of your shift goes with significantly less head injuries,” his professor said, gesturing to Beowulf with the hand holding his cup.

“Yeah, thanks. Night, professor.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Ecgtheowsson,” his professor replied, casting one last worried glance in Beowulf’s direction before leaving, the telltale chiming of the clock as it struck the hour marking his professor as the last customer of the day.

Beowulf, still in a daze, crossed the cafe to lock the door and flip the sign to read Sorry, We’re Closed! before going to the storage closet to get the cleaning cart. When he opened the door, everything hit him at once.

The comments, from customers, from his roommate, hell, from their coworkers! It all started to make sense. All this time, he’d gotten so used to thinking he hated Unferth that he couldn’t see the truth right under his nose.

He was in love with him.

And maybe, just maybe, Unferth loved him back.

Beowulf pondered this as he went about his closing chores, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do with this revelation.

He figured he should probably tell Unferth, see if the suspicion kicking around his brain was true or not. But then, what if it wasn’t? What if it just made their already tense relationship even more rocky? He didn’t want to risk that, not now, not understanding what it is he does.

But, on the other hand, what if it was? What if this thing, whatever it was between them, could be so much better than it was? If he didn’t dread coming to work in the mornings because he was looking forward to who he’d be working with? Wouldn’t it be worth it then?

As he cleaned, Beowulf tried to think of their past interactions, of how Unferth treated him. Hell, just five hours earlier the man himself had been leaning on him for support. Maybe there was something, after all.

Once he’d finished his closing chores, he’d resolved to tell his coworker. No matter the cost.


	7. You Wouldn't Get This From Any Other Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: explicit sexual content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eldritch Abomination. Again. I did not release my full horny potential, so you’re welcome. Happy reading.

Beowulf was sitting on the side of his bed, rapidly tapping his foot. He couldn’t tell if he was dreading his next encounter or if it was just butterflies. Maybe it was both. He shakily pulled his phone out of his pocket and started a message to Unferth. “You, me, the shop. 10 pm.” His nervous tapping only got worse, but he knew that he was doing the right thing.

###

Unferth showed up to the dark, empty shop at 9:59. He felt a little nervous, what could Beowulf possibly want from him. Unless… “Hey,” Beowulf said, putting on his most confident voice. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up.” Unferth made a sweeping motion with his arms, declaring his presence.

“Well, here I am.” He walked towards the other man, trying and failing to hold back a smirk. “What’s this all about?” he asked, although he already had a few ideas. 

“There’s something I need to tell you, Unferth.” Beowulf says softly.

“Yes… go on…” says the shorter man, amused. The blonde presses Unferth’s body against his, taking his startled face in his hands. 

“I have… feelings for you.” Beowulf was so close, the other man could feel his breath on his neck. Unferth smiled and put his hands on Beowulf’s hips. 

“Oh, do you now?” Unferth chuckled, pulling away slightly. Beowulf almost pouted.

“Hey, I'm serious!” The blonde protested. He looked desperately into his handsome co-workers eyes. He was so much more than that now. 

“I bet you are, sweetheart.” Unferth picked the younger man up, setting him on a nearby table. Beowulf was about to protest, but a finger was quickly put to his lips. Unferth pushed his lover onto his back, squeezing his thighs suggestively. Beowulf couldn’t help but let out a little moan. The dominant man leaned over his partner, kissing him gently. Beowulf’s cheeks lit up a bright cherry red. Flustered, he kissed back as best he could. Unferth’s hand drifted over to Beowulf’s bulge and he slowly pulled away from the kiss. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” Beowulf nodded aggressively, too overwhelmed to speak. “Good, because we’re going to my place.”

###

The couple didn’t waste any time. Unferth slammed his bedroom door shut, all the while kissing his mate passionately. They managed to tear their clothes off, one piece at a time, without barely keeping their hands and lips off each other. They crawled onto the bed, hungry for sex. Beowulf marveled at the size of Unferth’s cock, he hadn’t seen it up close before. He reached out to stroke it but the dominant man slapped his hand away. “Not yet.” he said in a smooth, yet assertive tone. Beowulf nodded. Without knowing it, he had become almost completely submissive. It came naturally for him.

Unferth flipped his partner over, pulling him close by his hips. He took joy in feeling Beowulf get impatient. 

“Come on already!” whined the blonde.

Unferth chuckled. He loved feeling Beowlf’s ass wiggle against him. He swiftly put on a condom, the kind with temperature-sensitive lube. Hah, safety first. He smiled to himself. He teased Beowulf’s hole, waiting for a reaction. He got a soft moan, then a push from the blonde’s plump ass against his dick. He finally gave in and shoved the rest of it inside him. Beowulf moaned louder this time and gripped the sheets. Unferth quickly switched positions, laying down and guiding Beowulf back down onto him. He grabbed the submissive man’s beef whistle and started stroking it, slowly at first, picking up the pace when Beowulf started to whimper.

The bedroom was filled with moans and the loud creaking of a wooden bed frame. The two sweaty men were panting, holding onto each other for dear life. Suddenly, Beowulf blushed very hard. “I- i’m…” the blonde finished all over Unferth’s chest, and at the same time, Unferth finished into the condom.

Beowulf collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily. He looked over to Unferth who was clearly still recovering from his powerful orgasm. He put a hand on his chest. “Hey… I love you.”

Unferth used what little energy he had left to scoff at him. “Do you love me or do you just love my cock?” he said, avoiding having to express his true feelings. 

“Come on, I mean it. You know I do.” Beowulf gave his lover puppy dog eyes and moved closer to him. Unferth sighed, wrapping an arm around his exhausted partner. 

“I love you too.” And just like that, the pair fell asleep. It was the best sleep they’d had in a while, and it was much needed.


	8. Full Commitment's What I'm Thinking Of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is exquisite corpse style btw

It was a bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking thirteen. Wait, no, that’s not right. Regardless, this is the last chapter of this god damn terrible excuse of a fan fiction and it’s written in exquisite corpse style. The day dawned bright and clear, and Beowulf was reminded of his long ancestral lineage as he awoke in his tiny hotel room in Las Vegas, fully prepared to marry the love of his life, Unferth “Assigned Top At Birth” Hrothgarson. “Bottom text!” exclaimed Beowulf, as he awoke.

Unferth looked at him strangely, shirt half pulled over his head as he dressed for the morning.

“Are you...OK?” he asked him, regarding the younger man with a look of concern.

“Yeah,” Beowulf replied, distractedly. “Just a strange dream, that’s all.” He smiled at Unferth, and the other man was absolved of his fear at the sight of his lover’s calmed face.

Beowulf realized that something was different. Unferth kept breaking eye contact, and his usual demeanor was notably quieted. He wondered if something was wrong, but didn’t know what to say. But then Unferth dropped to one knee.  
“Don’t tell me you’re-”  
“I am. So what’s the answer?”

“Yes, of course, yes!”

The two embraced, and Unferth slipped the engagement ring over Beowulf’s finger. Tears came to Beowulf’s eyes. “This happened so fast… are you sure you want to do this?” Unferth rubbed his fiancé’s shoulders and pulled away to face him.

“Of course I’m sure. I’ve felt this way for a long time, I was just too blind to see it.” Unferth felt his own eyes watering. All he could think of was his wonderful husband-to-be. 

He stepped out of the log cabin, into the morning mist, observing that the numbers were falling. Thirteen. Twenty-seven. Eight hundred and seventy-nine. In the year of our lord 1184, in the backcountry of Southwestern Wales, as people around him died of innumerable treatable diseases had this time period occurred in more modern times (or had time travellers made an emergency delivery of life-saving penicillin). Penicillin. Penicillin. Penicillin? Was there even such a thing? Fourteen. Nine and a half. One thousand and forty-two. Only a few hours were left, and all present began to count down in sync, in a manner not unlike that of those connected by the inexorable threads of fate, or perhaps those who have taken too much ketamine. He stepped outside.

The day was bright— uncharacteristically so for the season, and Beowulf squinted in the sunlight, turning around and waiting for Unferth to lock their door before stepping down from the porch, hands in the pockets of his light jacket and Unferth’s arm looped through his.

“Can you at least give me a hint?” he whined, bumping his shoulder into Unferth’s.

“No! It’s a surprise!” Unferth said, mischief alight in his eyes and his lips ticked upward in the beginnings of a smile.

“Aw, come onnn.” Beowulf begged, doing his best impression of the couple’s new German Shepherd puppy.

Unferth raised an eyebrow at the younger man’s desperation. “My love, that kind of loses its strength after the first year.”

Beowulf pouted. This wasn’t going how he wanted it to go. He wasn’t sure what he had been picturing, but this definitely wasn’t it. But it’s what was happening, and he couldn’t deny that some part of him wanted this.  
“Yes, I will marry you,” he said. Unferth’s eyes were glittery with what seemed to be tears, but that was something he would never admit to. Beowulf realized that this was happiness.

Four years ago, he would have considered spending the rest of his life with Unferth to be a fate worse than death. But everything had changed. All he wanted to do was spend his life with the man that he had once considered the most annoying person on earth. Isn’t that something? The difference that four years can make. In four years Beowulf had graduated college, gotten his dream job, and gotten engaged to the love of his life. Oh yeah, it was all coming together. Bernie was waiting for the happy couple at the altar in his rabbi attire. They were happily surprised to see him there. “Mazel tov, boys!” he said, ushering them up onto the bimah and patting them on the back. They presented their wedding bands to each other. Bernie recited the wedding prayers, smiling proudly at the two lovers. 

His friend, Hgdfjior, cut a dashing figure running at him, cutting through the early morning mist, the sound of his leather clothes piercing the calm of los bosques.  
“Hey, how are you?”  
“No gay, José.”  
“Thanks, I agree.”

###

The phone was ringing. Bark. The regent of a future unified “Britain”, Gertrude Stein, sat in a meeting, thinking about the legacy that her ancestor, Beowulf, hath wrought upon her.  
“Is my brain broken?”  
“Yes.”  
“Good, all I see are colors.”

Are you laughing now you fucker  
No and i cant say why  
Sorry sorry Im so sorry  
Bernie sanders euthanasia married them  
Boobah? CAn any of say say Boobah

“We’ve just got to walk down that long long path path, don’t we?” remarked Samuel Himbo, lord of the treasury. “Yes, I concur with the statement that was just made. Thanks, himbo.” The phone rang on. It was from the future. Or was it the past? Maybe this is what happens when we eat the sludge. There’s no time at all to explain. Not time at all. Lake Michigan University. Is anything real?

Tap routine Orgy participants Heads and dongs

At last, the chiming stopped. We disembarked from the large large barge barge, and walked towards a new future. “Do you agree?”, he asked candidly.

He sighed. “I don’t know,” he responded, honestly. And that was the last said on the matter.

Bernie Sanders smiled.  
“I now pronounce you husband and husband,” he declared, “and death to capitalism.” The attendees clapped. Someone shouted “more like gayowulf” over the nosie. Beowulf stared into Unferth’s eyes and knew that this was the answer.

Bernie Sanders turned to Unferth, “do you, Unferth Hrothgarson, take Beowulf Ecgtheowsson to be your lawfully wedded husband?”. 

“I do,” said Unferth through tears. 

“And do you, Beowulf Ecgtheowsson take Unferth Hrothgarson to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” said Beowulf. The husbands embraced, tears in their eyes and tongues in each other’s mouths. Bernie looked away.

**Author's Note:**

> blame the senioritis. #bernie2020


End file.
